


Impasse

by Hours_Gone_By



Series: Trope Bingo Round Twelve [1]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Bruises, Gen, Magical Artifacts, Magical Tattoos, Supernatural Elements, Tension, Trope Bingo Round 12, Vampire!Jazz, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-14
Updated: 2019-01-14
Packaged: 2019-10-10 05:26:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17419934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hours_Gone_By/pseuds/Hours_Gone_By
Summary: Prowl’s etched protections were damaged, leaving him vulnerable to the vampire’s fangs. There was no point even trying to reason with a vampire in this state. His only option was defence.Prowl finds himself trapped underground between two monsters.





	Impasse

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Trope Bingo](https://trope-bingo.dreamwidth.org) [Round 12](https://trope-bingo.dreamwidth.org/tag/round+twelve). Prompt: Bite mark/bruise

Prowl had expected, upon joining the Autobots, to meet a variety of mecha from differing backgrounds. He had prepared himself to learn new methods of coping with the various changes in social expectations. He had not expected the vampire.

Jazz was dangerous, seductive, intense. Prowl would concede that he could be considered dangerous himself – indeed, his tactical ability was so to the enemy – and intense, but seductive he was not. Considered too cold and distant to be attractive, his experience with relationships was limited. He was extremely surprised, therefore, when Jazz asked him out for a drink, handsome smile and vampiric charm both at maximum.

Prowl turned him down. Jazz’s shock was apparent, his expression uncontrolled for a whole two nano-kliks.

“Is it cuz of the vampire thing?” Jazz asked. Prowl said no. Jazz considered him for a moment then asked, “is it cuz of trust issues?”

Prowl didn’t reply, merely excused himself and spent the rest of the day working in his quarters. His office had to be accessible to all Autobots, and Jazz, therefore, had an invitation to enter. His quarters were private, secured and protected, and Prowl had no intention of issuing Jazz an invitation to them. Prowl was sure the vampire had no real interest in him, beyond getting a taste of his energon. Jazz had also been damnably right about the trust issues – it wouldn’t have been the first time Prowl had been asked out as part of a bet or a dare. True, he had no indication that that was the reason behind Jazz’s request, but Prowl didn’t think the emotional risk was worth it.

He wasn’t a drone, no matter what others might say about him. He was simply guarded.

“Tell me what I gotta do to make you trust me,” Jazz said insistently, the second time Prowl turned him down. “Swear on Primus’ name I won’t bite you? Cuz I’ll take the burn if that’s what you need.”

“Unnecessary.” Prowl already had Primus’ name etched into his collar fairing on one side, and a protection against evil on the other. “Please excuse me.”

Jazz stopped asking after that. His attention occasionally slid to Prowl, or specifically Prowl’s throat, during meetings or when they were both in the mess hall, but it was always jerked away as soon as Prowl noticed and looked over at him. It looked, as perhaps it was supposed to, like Jazz wasn’t doing it intentionally. Prowl took to glaring at the vampire every time he caught him and frowning, but it didn’t work as a deterrent. Jazz’s gaze kept locking on Prowl’s neck, and Prowl was sure he could _feel_ the vampire’s desire to bite him. It was both unsettling and aggravating.

It went on for some time, Jazz staring at Prowl’s neck and then looking away, until they were forced to work together on a strategy to secure the northern border of Uraya. The fourth time Jazz stared and looked away when caught, Prowl set his tablet down on his desk with a decisive snap.

“Stop that,” Prowl ordered.

“Ain’t doing it on purpose,” Jazz protested. Prowl found it telling that he didn’t ask _what_ he was supposed to stop.

“The problem is that you’re doing it at all!” Prowl snapped. “And the appropriate response is, ‘yes, Prowl, I apologize that I made you uncomfortable.’”

“Okay, okay!” Jazz held up his hands defensively, though what he had to feel defensive about, Prowl was sure he didn’t know. “No need to bite my head off.”

Prowl was still angry. “Were you unaware before now that your actions made me uncomfortable?” Jazz hesitated, but that gave Prowl his answer. “Then you’ve no excuse and no reason to be offended, have you?”

Jazz opened his mouth, seemed to consider, closed it again. “You’re right. I don’t. I should’ve known better.”

“And…?” Prowl prompted into the silence.

“And…yes, Prowl, I apologize that I made you uncomfortable.”

The words were a bit closer to a mumble and less sincere than Prowl liked, but there was no point continuing when you’d won the battle. He nodded in acknowledgement.

“Thank you. Let us continue.”

***

Like everyone, Prowl kept his etchings, invoking protection through Primus’ name and other blessings, in scrupulous repair. Intact on a mech’s structure they could only be overridden with the bearer’s permission. The key word was, of course, ‘intact.’ The first thing a vampire or other supernatural creature would do if they could get a potential victim down was try and damage their protections. It was a favoured trick of some Decepticons as well, damaging an Autobot or unfortunate Neutral’s protections and leaving them for what haunted the night.

Since the incident in Prowl’s office, where Prowl had forced an apology from Jazz, the vampire had ceased his attentions. He didn’t ask Prowl out or stare at his throat. Prowl didn’t think for a second that the vampire’s interest had indeed gone away, but it was no longer being expressed, and that was tolerable. Enough so that they were assigned a mission together, delving into the vaults under the ruined High Council Pavilions for any remaining holy artifacts.

Unsurprisingly, most of the vampires, attracted by the promise of violence and chaos, had gone over to the Decepticon’s side. Prowl was not sure what had brought Jazz to the Autobots, but he refused to ask, lest the vampire take it as returned interest. Whatever the vampire's reasons were, Prime had accepted them and permitted Jazz’s recruitment, and Prowl trusted Prime’s judgment.

Jazz was on the mission because he was good at infiltration and because vampires could sense sacred objects. Prowl was there because he had a grasp on what objects would be of the most strategic value and because he, unlike Jazz, could handle the objects and carry them in his subspace.

Prowl sometimes wondered how Jazz stood any kind of proximity to the Matrix. Maybe Prime shielded him somehow, or perhaps he didn’t, and Jazz was just good at hiding the pain it caused him.

They had made it into the vaults, located the remaining artifacts and salvaged the ones Prowl deemed most useful, without any significant incidents. A few creatures of the Underground, drawn out by the lure of the violence that covered Cybertron’s surface, approached on occasion. Most were quickly driven off by the sight of Jazz’s fangs and the threat of a fiercer predator, though that was luck. There were stronger and stranger things than vampires in the Underground. One that may have been such approached more closely than the others and Prowl shot it, its strange quasi-organic-looking armour melting and bubbling under the acid from his rifle’s pellets.

They were left alone in their descent after that.

Prowl had meant for them to return the same way when they were done, but Jazz stopped him as thy left.

“This way,” the vampire said softly, indicating a different passageway. “There’s an enclave out hunting tonight. I can hear them,” he explained to Prowl’s questioning look. “Subsonic call – or warning if you’re another vamp might be on their turf. They must’ve just moved in, weren’t here when the scouts checked the place out. Want me to lead?”

“Yes.” Prowl had taken to speaking as little as possible in the vampire’s presence. He did not fully trust Jazz and, after the business of staring at Prowl’s throat at every opportunity, didn’t much like him either. Still, as neither complete trust or any depth of affection was required to work with someone Prowl would do that, if Jazz wasn’t threatening, however subtly, to prey on him.

Prowl followed Jazz silently, making sure to step only where the vampire stepped and keeping his sensors at full alert. This section of the Pavilions had been ruined by bombing earlier in the war, and it hadn’t been scouted recently. There was no way to ascertain if they were alone, or even reasonably safe. Continued bombing and scavenging of the ruins meant they had yet to settle and the building made occasional, concerning, creaks and groans. Prowl calculated that if the building were to collapse, and they were in a survivable pocket, they would have at most twelve cycles to wait before a search-and-rescue team was dispatched for them if they couldn’t send a distress signal. The thought wasn’t as reassuring as Prowl would have liked.

“Damn,” Jazz breathed when they came to what had been an intersection of hallways. “Ceiling collapsed since the scouts mapped it last. Way out’s blocked with rubble.”

“Is there an alternate route?” Prowl asked.

Jazz sighed, a low, white-noise rush of uncertainty. “Maybe? There’s another route above us I can get to, but it’s got ‘unstable’ marked on it on the map. Gotta check and make sure it didn’t collapse too, and it’s stable enough for us both to get through.” He looked over at Prowl. “If I leave you here, you gonna be okay?”

“Of course. I have my rifle, and I see several defensible positions.” Prowl took up a position behind a chunk of fallen wall. “Comm me if the way is passable. I will follow.”

“Right you are. See you in a couple kliks.”

It was more than a couple of kliks, of course. Prowl calculated the benefits of, after waiting for an appropriate interval, following Jazz, attempting to make his way out on his own through their original entry route, or staying put and sending the distress signal. Once he’d calculated the two options most likely to succeed, he ran further scenarios to determine which was optimal.

Prowl had been alone for a third of a cycle when his scanners, still on full, alerted him to an approach, and it was not Jazz. Prowl readied his rifle, disengaging his tactical simulations so he could focus entirely on defence.

The only thing that told him the entity was approaching was his sensor scans. Whatever it was, it was silent and did not register appropriately to his optics. It was strangely blurry, its form wavering as if it weren’t quite in the visible spectrum. Fortunately, Prowl didn’t need his optics to aim when he could triangulate or use other, nonvisual, sensors. In a fraction of a nano-klik, Prowl calculated where the central mass of the creature was and fired.

And fired.

And fired.

It didn’t slow, and Prowl rolled out of its way as it leaped for him, subspacing his rifle and pulling out a pair of shock batons for close-quarters combat. With a flick of a thumb, he switched them to their highest setting and struck out at his opponent.

He’d noted the limbs. He hadn’t seen the tail. Later he would analyze his memories and conclude that it had been laid along the creature’s back until it lashed out and struck him hard enough to knock him down. Prowl fell, rolled with the force of the blow, and tried to regain his bearings. His equilibrium had been thrown off, and his optics were trying to recalibrate. Neither acid nor shocks had worked, and Prowl tried to reach into his subspace for an artifact, hoping it would at least buy him time but could not focus enough, still dizzy from the blow. In his dazed state, it occurred to him, rather forcefully, that he was alone here and likely to offline that way.

Prowl started when one of the creature’s limbs struck the ground next to his head. Senses awry, he hadn’t realized how close it had gotten. The beast was hot, too hot, making a growling, clicking sound from deep in its chest. Another limb came down, one claw slicing into the protections carved on Prowl’s armour, far too deliberately for this to be any sort of natural or unthinking creature. It _knew_ what to go after, how to create vulnerabilities by going after the blessings.

The damage to the etchings didn’t make Prowl entirely defenceless, but he’d lost his batons and couldn’t get into his subspace for his rifle. Prowl scrabbled in the rubble for a weapon, a handhold to pull himself away, expecting any moment to feel teeth or claws sinking into him. Anger at the _uselessness_ of a death like this, one not in service to the Autobot cause, to justice in any form, filled him. He grabbed for the creature’s throat with his bare hands but was too thick for him to get any kind of meaningful grip. It pushed back, bearing him down, getting closer to his own throat.

“ _MINE!_ ”

Prowl had hardly registered the furious roar before Jazz landed on the creature’s back, claws and fangs out and sharp, snarling and tearing at its throat. Hot fuel sprayed over Prowl’s face, and he whipped his head to one side, pressing his lips together to not get any in his mouth. The creature howled and heaved its weight off Prowl, who scrambled away. Prowl finally managed to realign his sensor suite and saw Jazz…feeding, fangs sunk deep into the primary energon line of the weakly struggling creature. Fuel was sprayed across the floor, a void where Prowl had lain and a smear where he’d gotten himself free. Fuel that was covering Prowl.

Prowl swore and subspaced a cloth and some solvent, trying to clean as much of the fuel off himself as he could. This much fuel, a fight, feeding on his kill, all put Jazz at risk of going into a feeding frenzy and that put _Prowl_ at risk of becoming his new target. More so if he were covered in the living fuel of Jazz’s previous kill.

The creature made a rattling sound, kicked twice, and went still, shivering back into visibility. It was a mismatched assortment of parts, looking like no mechanimal Prowl had ever seen. Jazz’s tanks had to be full, but when his head snapped up and his orange gaze fixed on Prowl, the tactician knew it didn’t matter. Jazz was in the feral state, would hunt and kill anything within the range of his sensors until he ran out of things to kill or was knocked into reboot.

Prowl’s etched protections were damaged, leaving him vulnerable to the vampire’s fangs. There was no point even trying to reason with a vampire in this state. With Jazz fixed on him, his only option was defence. His rifle was not an option, and he would have to move quickly to grab his batons – and fast movements around a feral vampire were guaranteed to trigger predatory instincts.

Jazz’s predator instincts were at the forefront anyway, and he dropped off the creature, stalking Prowl now. Prowl waited for Jazz to come into striking range.

Prowl’s position as tactician and the time he spent off the battlefield made many mecha underestimate his martial prowess. Either Jazz was included among them or, in his feral state, he forgot. Either way, when Jazz lunged for him Prowl’s left hook connected with the vampire’s face and his right hand made a textbook jab into a particular nerve cluster. Jazz dropped like a sack of bolts.

Deep down, Prowl might have felt a tiny, tiny bit of satisfaction. Still, Jazz had saved his life, though there would be questions about that ‘mine’ part later. For now…

Prowl looked down at the vampire and sighed. He wouldn’t be able to drag Jazz behind him and defend them as well, so there was no point in trying to leave. Prowl subspaced a pair of stasis cuffs – he’d never lost the habit of carrying them, even after he stopped being an Enforcer – and knelt, quickly restraining the other mech. Then he set the distress signal to transmit and set about fortifying their location as best he could.

A maximum of twelve cycles to wait it was.

***

Prowl and Jazz stood in front of Optimus Prime in his office. Prime was also on his feet – not a good sign. Prime preferred to sit for casual conversations or when he was working with his officers. That they were all standing meant one of two things: bad news or disciplinary action.

The bruise the size of Prowl’s fist marring Jazz’s jaw indicated it was the latter.

“Prowl,” Optimus began, voice tinged with disappointment that made Prowl feel guilty, even though his action had been in self-defence, “explain why you felt the need to strike your fellow officer.”

“It was my – “ Jazz began, and Optimus silenced him with a gesture. “Jazz, I’m addressing Prowl. I will hear you out in a moment.”

“Yes, sir,” Prowl said, and relayed the events in the Pavilion ruins as calmly as if he were giving any other briefing. Optimus listened attentively and then turned to Jazz.

“Is this true, Jazz?”

“Yeah,” Jazz admitted, sounding genuinely embarrassed. “With the fight and the energon I–I went a little feral, I guess. Don’t remember much, feral state’ll do that to a mech. But I woke up in cuffs with an aching jaw, so it sounds right. I’ll agree to have Ratchet examine the memory files, no problem, but I gotta warn you, they don’t always write properly when a vamp gets like that.”

“Hmm.” Optimus regarded them both thoughtfully. “There has been friction between you two in the past, correct?”

“Yeah…that was my fault too,” Jazz admitted.

“Jazz has apologized,” Prowl added, “and the actions that precipitated the tension have not been repeated.”

“I see.” Optimus turned to Jazz. “Jazz, do I understand that you do _not_ wish to press charges against Prowl for striking and restraining you?”

“No, sir, no charges,” Jazz assured him. “You might’ve had me up on murder charges if Prowl hadn’t managed to put me down for the count. Or another vamp in your command.”

“Very well then,” Optimus said. “I trust we will have no further incidents, provided no further self-defence issues arise?”

“No, Prime.”

“No, sir.”

“Very good. Dismissed.”

Jazz didn’t let his shoulders relax until Prime’s office door closed behind them. Prowl didn’t make his relax at all.

“Thank you for not pressing charges,” Prowl said because he supposed he should. Being court-martialed for striking a fellow officer would be inconvenient – even if he had no doubt he would have been found not guilty by reason of self-defence.

“Thanks for stopping me from biting you.”

“I thought you wanted to bite me,” Prowl couldn’t resist saying.

“Not like that,” Jazz argued. “Not feral and like to drain you, which’d either kill you or turn you, depending on if I was aware enough to feed you m’own energon.”

Prowl couldn’t help it, he’d always been curious. “Then why?”

Jazz started to answer, then stopped and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter now. Shouldn't have been thinking about it in the first place, not after you turned me down twice.”

Ah. Something romantic and/or sexual then, neither of which Prowl had any interest in engaging in with Jazz.

“Very true,” Prowl confirmed. “I must ask though, in light of your having that realization, why did you identify me as ‘yours’ when you attacked the creature?”

“Oh, that.” Jazz rubbed a hand over his throat, fingers lingering briefly over one of his primary energon lines. Prowl wondered if that was where he’d been bitten when he’d been turned. “See, vamps usually belong to enclaves, a group that protects us and supports us and hunts with us. We belong to the enclave, and the enclave belongs to us. When the war broke out most of my enclave went over to the Cons. We don’t…do well without an enclave so when I signed up with the Autobots guess they kinda – turned into mine.”

“You meant ‘mine’ as in a member of your enclave,” Prowl guessed. “Like, a family?”

“Something like, yeah. We look after each other. Protect each other. Member of my enclave was in danger, and I guess I lost it.” Jazz looked apologetic. “Problem is when I went feral – you didn’t register as another vampire. Just – “

“Prey,” Prowl finished.

Jazz looked away. “Yeah. Good thing you were able to take me down. Care to show me how you did it?”

“Hm.” Prowl regarded him. “I think not. I may need it again, and it would not be to my benefit if you were able to defend against it.”

“Heh. Yeah, suppose. Well,” Jazz shrugged. “Guess I’ll see you ‘round, Prowl?”

“We are both required at an officer’s meeting in three mega-cycles,” Prowl reminded him. “However, you did save my life. If I might, _platonically_ , buy you a drink? Tonight, in the officer’s mess?”

Jazz looked surprised. “Yeah…yeah, sure Prowl. See you after shift.”

That would do nicely. “Certainly. Until tonight, Jazz.”

As Prowl walked off, he let his shoulders relax at last. An enclave, hm? Prowl would never take the vampire as a lover, felt they were unlikely to even be friends, but members of a group that looked after each other – yes. That they could do.

Unless Jazz tried to bite him again.


End file.
